Entry 05, Gold and Silver Rings
Title: Gold and Silver Rings
Entry Number: 05
Author: latemarch, Chelsea
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: PG
Genre: romance, action
Spoilers: None. Though I am screwing with the AU timeline.
Word Count: 1436
Notes: This is a direct continuation of Entry 03, and the beginning of Chapter Two, of the story. Beta'd late at night by me, so... sorry for any mistakes. I'll try and fix them as I find them.
Chapter Two
Three days later, Ann Finch had five fewer pieces of wearable clothing, and the Xavier Institute had four fewer pieces of usable table wear.
After the third fork fell in disintegrated pieces to the table, Ann assured Charles that she would replace them, and buy him a new cutlery set. Everyone at the table, even the usually unflappable Angel, had seemed relieved when Charles quietly promised Ann that this was unnecessary; this was Charles’ way of saying that it really was unnecessary. But he wouldn’t object if a new set suddenly appeared, shiny and whole, in the kitchen a few weeks later.
“I thought this was your grandmother’s silver, Charles. I distinctly remember you telling me a few weeks ago.” Erik’s voice was innocently attentive to the situation, but when Ann looked up at him, his lips were cocked in a half grin, and he was clearly enjoying her struggle. “Irreplaceable you said.”
The butter knife in Ann’s left hand fell to the table with a loud, painfully obvious thunk, in three charred pieces. Shortly thereafter, the shoulder of her sweater opened up in two large, gaping holes.
So like any reasonable person, she was dreading dinner the next day, even as she made it.
“What are you… making there Ann?” Sean’s voice hesitantly interrupted the fuming mutant as she worked in the kitchen. Her temper had been on thin edge the past few days, and even though she’d carried out her usual, helpful routine, her mood had been easy to discern. And no one particularly wanted to interrupt her.
Ann looked up to find the red head peeking around the doorway, and forcefully relaxed her tense shoulder muscles to beckon him in one-handed. He advanced with all due caution as she replied sourly, “Sauerbraten.”
Sean took a deep breath in, puffing his chest out and stalling for time as he meandered around the kitchen table. It came out in a huge gust, with the faintest whistle at it’s back, and ruffled a stack of napkins. He watched her with a raised eyebrow. “And… what are you doing exactly?”
Her hands were fisted in a large plastic bag, which encased an enormous chunk of meat, spices, and juices. “I’m marinating the meat.” She shook the bag savagely, saturating the already soaked meat even more.
He winced at her violence. “I thought you did that already.” He dodged her rush to check on the mashed potatoes with only centimeters to spare. “You know, you don’t have to make dinner all the time.”
“Of course I do.” She pushed hair off of her forehead with the back of her hand. “I don’t really do much else around here. Besides destroy things that is. Gotta earn my keep somehow.” Her laugh was a bit too tense to come off well.
Even with her reasoning, Sean didn’t seem to understand her need to repay things, to practice the three most important things in life: Control, Compassion, Compliance. He didn’t have the weight of at least one ruined life on him.
“Something smells good in here.” Angel walked in with much less reservation than Sean had, and she sauntered around the other two to peer into the giant pot of mashed potatoes. One finger came up topped with fluffy starch, and she tasted it delicately. “What’s in the bag?”
“Meat.” Ann grumbled, shaking the bag a little more; her wrists popped with the force of the action. And at Angel’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Beef.” It wasn’t that she didn’t like Sean and Angel, she just didn’t feel particularly like entertaining anyone right then and there. Compliance, she reminded herself.
She took her time as she worked, responding noncommittally to the other two, allowing herself ample time to reign in the acid. And the more food she prepared, the easier it became. Ann had always done the cooking when she lived at home - her parents had been two recluse philosophers and goers of scientific academia, so setting foot in the kitchen had been an alien idea to both of them. It had so long been her calming crutch that even simple actions like making a salad was therapeutic. From the very first, with a mutation like acid generation, Ann learned that food preparation had to be done with utmost concentration. No one wanted Sulfuric Pot Roast.
By the time she stood up from putting the beef into a pan, and the pan into the oven, Sean had opened a couple of soda bottles. One lone bottle was left on the counter for her, and she took a draught gratefully, as the oven was quickly heating up the kitchen to unbearable levels. Angel drank her soda while she flicked through the German cookbook checked out ever so graciously to Ann by the public library, and Sean pretended to drink his soda while he watched Angel.
Ms. Salvadore had a habit of licking and teasing the rim of whatever glass she was drinking out of, unconsciously of course. And it had become the habit of Sean, Darwin, and Alex to give her drinks whenever they possibly could. They were handsome young men, harmless, and the ruses under which they watched the girl were so transparent… It was a wonder Angel hadn’t noticed the absolute overabundance of Cola and ice water in her life. Ann caught Sean’s eye covertly and he blushed, making her smile briefly. Poor Sean, he wore his heart on his sleeve and was always the easiest to see through.
Angel had her finger delineating a particular recipe. “Is this that stuff that Erik was talking about? Is that what you’re making?” She tongued her soda again and winked at Sean. Okay, maybe she did know what she was doing.
“Yes.” Ann answered crossly again, this time because of the subject matter.
Instead of being irritated, Angel only smiled slyly, narrowing her eyes on Ann as if trying to decide something. “I thought you said that you wouldn’t make it if your life depended on it.” She traded glances with Sean, who looked equally interested. “You said that you refused to make it.”
Backing up against the kitchen counter, Ann folded her arms across her chest defensively. Her cardigan was getting uncomfortably warm in the hot kitchen, and she picked at the hemline nervously. Her words came out in a quick mumble. “Charles said that he might like to try some.”
Entirely enlightened looks dawned upon the faces of the two younger mutants, and Ann knew exactly what they were thinking. Charles and Moira were keeping their budding a relationship a secret, to protect it from the curious badgering of precisely these two. Quite clearly not as subtle as the other two, Sean wagged his eyebrows at Ann and nodded enthusiastically. “So you and Charles, eh?”
All blood drained from Ann’s face. It was one thing for them to suspect that she and Charles were seeing each other. It was entirely another thing for them to suggest that she knew the professor in the most intimate of ways. She wanted to respect Charles’ and Moira’s privacy, but not at the cost of her reputation! Certainly not! Hands held out in front of her like a shield, Ann shook her head vigorously. “No! No, of course not! I would never, ever…”
Her denial was cut short by the younger mutants. Playfully skeptical, Sean began to scold her in between sips of cola. But Angel… Angel was a different matter. She looked as if she was silently debating the validity of something, something surprising.
The younger woman’s eyes lit on Ann suspiciously. “Perhaps it is Erik that you’re making this for. Opposites do attract.” She advanced, and Ann leaned as far back as she could.
“Do they?” Nervous of the ever circling pattern that Angel was weaving, she fought for control. Even her sweat felt faintly caustic, and she wiped it away quickly.
Angel only took that all in. “They do.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, Erik watches you.”
“He does?” Ann and Sean asked in unison, both surprised. And as the predatorily intent mutant circled closer, Ann wished desperately for the coolness of her cola.
“And you two are opposites.”
It came out as a squeak, “Are we?” Behind Angel, Sean was wide eyed and lost.
“Yes.” Angel turned her head this way and that, as if searching for any visible signs. “You and Erik. Erik and Ann. Hmm…” She looked as if she was about to ask something else, something Ann did not want to even contemplate.
“Shoo, puppies.”
- - end of entry 05 - -
Three guesses as it who it is at the end of the entry! Bwahahahahaha! Let me know what you think! I know that I have some work to do on the end, but I just wanted to get this out there for everyone to read.
I know that I probably haven't been as attentive to everyone as I probably should be, and I really apologize for that. I have so much to do, that it's a struggle just to get my own entries in, let alone comment on all of yours. But I am trying my best! I really want everyone to know that I'm here, and involved! This project is dear to me!
Entry Number: 05
Author: latemarch, Chelsea
Fandom: X-Men: First Class
Rating: PG
Genre: romance, action
Spoilers: None. Though I am screwing with the AU timeline.
Word Count: 1436
Notes: This is a direct continuation of Entry 03, and the beginning of Chapter Two, of the story. Beta'd late at night by me, so... sorry for any mistakes. I'll try and fix them as I find them.
Chapter Two
Three days later, Ann Finch had five fewer pieces of wearable clothing, and the Xavier Institute had four fewer pieces of usable table wear.
After the third fork fell in disintegrated pieces to the table, Ann assured Charles that she would replace them, and buy him a new cutlery set. Everyone at the table, even the usually unflappable Angel, had seemed relieved when Charles quietly promised Ann that this was unnecessary; this was Charles’ way of saying that it really was unnecessary. But he wouldn’t object if a new set suddenly appeared, shiny and whole, in the kitchen a few weeks later.
“I thought this was your grandmother’s silver, Charles. I distinctly remember you telling me a few weeks ago.” Erik’s voice was innocently attentive to the situation, but when Ann looked up at him, his lips were cocked in a half grin, and he was clearly enjoying her struggle. “Irreplaceable you said.”
The butter knife in Ann’s left hand fell to the table with a loud, painfully obvious thunk, in three charred pieces. Shortly thereafter, the shoulder of her sweater opened up in two large, gaping holes.
So like any reasonable person, she was dreading dinner the next day, even as she made it.
“What are you… making there Ann?” Sean’s voice hesitantly interrupted the fuming mutant as she worked in the kitchen. Her temper had been on thin edge the past few days, and even though she’d carried out her usual, helpful routine, her mood had been easy to discern. And no one particularly wanted to interrupt her.
Ann looked up to find the red head peeking around the doorway, and forcefully relaxed her tense shoulder muscles to beckon him in one-handed. He advanced with all due caution as she replied sourly, “Sauerbraten.”
Sean took a deep breath in, puffing his chest out and stalling for time as he meandered around the kitchen table. It came out in a huge gust, with the faintest whistle at it’s back, and ruffled a stack of napkins. He watched her with a raised eyebrow. “And… what are you doing exactly?”
Her hands were fisted in a large plastic bag, which encased an enormous chunk of meat, spices, and juices. “I’m marinating the meat.” She shook the bag savagely, saturating the already soaked meat even more.
He winced at her violence. “I thought you did that already.” He dodged her rush to check on the mashed potatoes with only centimeters to spare. “You know, you don’t have to make dinner all the time.”
“Of course I do.” She pushed hair off of her forehead with the back of her hand. “I don’t really do much else around here. Besides destroy things that is. Gotta earn my keep somehow.” Her laugh was a bit too tense to come off well.
Even with her reasoning, Sean didn’t seem to understand her need to repay things, to practice the three most important things in life: Control, Compassion, Compliance. He didn’t have the weight of at least one ruined life on him.
“Something smells good in here.” Angel walked in with much less reservation than Sean had, and she sauntered around the other two to peer into the giant pot of mashed potatoes. One finger came up topped with fluffy starch, and she tasted it delicately. “What’s in the bag?”
“Meat.” Ann grumbled, shaking the bag a little more; her wrists popped with the force of the action. And at Angel’s raised eyebrow, she added, “Beef.” It wasn’t that she didn’t like Sean and Angel, she just didn’t feel particularly like entertaining anyone right then and there. Compliance, she reminded herself.
She took her time as she worked, responding noncommittally to the other two, allowing herself ample time to reign in the acid. And the more food she prepared, the easier it became. Ann had always done the cooking when she lived at home - her parents had been two recluse philosophers and goers of scientific academia, so setting foot in the kitchen had been an alien idea to both of them. It had so long been her calming crutch that even simple actions like making a salad was therapeutic. From the very first, with a mutation like acid generation, Ann learned that food preparation had to be done with utmost concentration. No one wanted Sulfuric Pot Roast.
By the time she stood up from putting the beef into a pan, and the pan into the oven, Sean had opened a couple of soda bottles. One lone bottle was left on the counter for her, and she took a draught gratefully, as the oven was quickly heating up the kitchen to unbearable levels. Angel drank her soda while she flicked through the German cookbook checked out ever so graciously to Ann by the public library, and Sean pretended to drink his soda while he watched Angel.
Ms. Salvadore had a habit of licking and teasing the rim of whatever glass she was drinking out of, unconsciously of course. And it had become the habit of Sean, Darwin, and Alex to give her drinks whenever they possibly could. They were handsome young men, harmless, and the ruses under which they watched the girl were so transparent… It was a wonder Angel hadn’t noticed the absolute overabundance of Cola and ice water in her life. Ann caught Sean’s eye covertly and he blushed, making her smile briefly. Poor Sean, he wore his heart on his sleeve and was always the easiest to see through.
Angel had her finger delineating a particular recipe. “Is this that stuff that Erik was talking about? Is that what you’re making?” She tongued her soda again and winked at Sean. Okay, maybe she did know what she was doing.
“Yes.” Ann answered crossly again, this time because of the subject matter.
Instead of being irritated, Angel only smiled slyly, narrowing her eyes on Ann as if trying to decide something. “I thought you said that you wouldn’t make it if your life depended on it.” She traded glances with Sean, who looked equally interested. “You said that you refused to make it.”
Backing up against the kitchen counter, Ann folded her arms across her chest defensively. Her cardigan was getting uncomfortably warm in the hot kitchen, and she picked at the hemline nervously. Her words came out in a quick mumble. “Charles said that he might like to try some.”
Entirely enlightened looks dawned upon the faces of the two younger mutants, and Ann knew exactly what they were thinking. Charles and Moira were keeping their budding a relationship a secret, to protect it from the curious badgering of precisely these two. Quite clearly not as subtle as the other two, Sean wagged his eyebrows at Ann and nodded enthusiastically. “So you and Charles, eh?”
All blood drained from Ann’s face. It was one thing for them to suspect that she and Charles were seeing each other. It was entirely another thing for them to suggest that she knew the professor in the most intimate of ways. She wanted to respect Charles’ and Moira’s privacy, but not at the cost of her reputation! Certainly not! Hands held out in front of her like a shield, Ann shook her head vigorously. “No! No, of course not! I would never, ever…”
Her denial was cut short by the younger mutants. Playfully skeptical, Sean began to scold her in between sips of cola. But Angel… Angel was a different matter. She looked as if she was silently debating the validity of something, something surprising.
The younger woman’s eyes lit on Ann suspiciously. “Perhaps it is Erik that you’re making this for. Opposites do attract.” She advanced, and Ann leaned as far back as she could.
“Do they?” Nervous of the ever circling pattern that Angel was weaving, she fought for control. Even her sweat felt faintly caustic, and she wiped it away quickly.
Angel only took that all in. “They do.” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, and crossed her arms over her chest. “You know, Erik watches you.”
“He does?” Ann and Sean asked in unison, both surprised. And as the predatorily intent mutant circled closer, Ann wished desperately for the coolness of her cola.
“And you two are opposites.”
It came out as a squeak, “Are we?” Behind Angel, Sean was wide eyed and lost.
“Yes.” Angel turned her head this way and that, as if searching for any visible signs. “You and Erik. Erik and Ann. Hmm…” She looked as if she was about to ask something else, something Ann did not want to even contemplate.
“Shoo, puppies.”
- - end of entry 05 - -
Three guesses as it who it is at the end of the entry! Bwahahahahaha! Let me know what you think! I know that I have some work to do on the end, but I just wanted to get this out there for everyone to read.
I know that I probably haven't been as attentive to everyone as I probably should be, and I really apologize for that. I have so much to do, that it's a struggle just to get my own entries in, let alone comment on all of yours. But I am trying my best! I really want everyone to know that I'm here, and involved! This project is dear to me!